


The Bimonthly Book Group

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Bi!Anne, Bi!Silver, Bisexuality, Dating, Denial of Feelings, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Feelings, M/M, Multi, Multiple Partners, Poetry, Polyamory, bi!Flint, bi!thomas, book discussions, book groups, how to date your partner's partner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-17 03:49:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13650816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: The first rule of book group is you don't have to be dating someone to be part of it, but it doesn't hurt.The second rule is read the fucking book.Twice a month, Flint hosts a book group consisting of his partners, their partners, roommates & friends. When Madi's boyfriend finally joins them one week, Flint finds himself in an unexpected situation - one where he can't tell if he loathes Silver or if he's attracted to him.





	The Bimonthly Book Group

Flint tapped his fingers on the table out of habit. Quietly, of course. He remembered he was in a library after all. It was hard to forget in the quiet corner he found tucked away from the bustle of the kids studying. There were too many of their group for a study room, even if everyone wasn’t there. But Flint had managed to ask the reference librarian if they could push two tables together for the discussion and he’d agreed.

It was only five minutes till 7 but no one else was here yet. Flint checked his watch again, wondering if they’d forgotten they’d started meeting at the library instead of the coffeehouse.

Someone cleared their throat and Flint looked up quickly, expecting to see one of the other librarians who didn’t know he had gotten permission to move the tables. Instead he found himself looking into the blue eyes of an attractive curly-haired young man. A man who was smiling at him for some reason.

“I’m sorry, these tables are taken.” Flint said abruptly. Let the man go and try to charm a study room out of the reference librarian.

“I know.” The curly-haired man said easily. He set his shoulder bag down across from the table from Flint. “That’s why I’m here.”

Flint frowned and then just as abruptly, he realized who the man was. The mythical John Silver. “I’m surprised you found time in your schedule for a book discussion.” It wasn’t quite a sneer, but very nearly dangling on the precipice of one.

Silver shrugged and sat down, his knee bumping into Flint’s as he did. Flint moved away.

“I had a cancellation.”

“I see.” Flint stared again at his watch. Where was everyone? Book group was only twice a month and usually everyone was fairly prompt, except Miranda.

Silver eyed him from across the table, a small smile playing upon his lips.

“What?” Flint inquired before he meant to.

“Nothing.” Silver shook his head. “Just…you’re exactly how I pictured.”

That he hadn’t been expecting.

“I can’t say the same.” Flint returned. In truth, he had hadn’t given much thought, if any, to Silver. A vague figure only existing on the peripheral of his own relationship.

If they were at a party, not that he would ever be at a party with Silver, but in those situations Flint tended to think of party introductions. He’d grown used to the awkwardness of them over time. People’s opinions mattered less and less as you grew comfortable in your own skin. If they were at a party and someone asked how he knew Silver, Flint would have said he was a partner of Miranda’s girlfriend, a mutual partner if you will. There were other terms of course, but Flint didn’t care for them all. It was easier to say a person was simply someone else’s partner. He liked the gender neutral, comfortableness of partner. Multiple partners was no longer a difficult concept for someone to grasp, or shouldn’t have been anyway.

 _My lover’s girlfriend’s boyfriend_ , he thought, and almost wanted to laugh. Lovers. He and Miranda had written love letters to each other in the early days, addressing each other as _my sweet_ and _my love._ Ridiculous, sentimental fluffy nicknames. The letters themselves had been highly erotic, but that went without saying.

He looked at his watch again. 7:10. How was nobody else here? Book group was usually composed of himself, Thomas, Miranda, Madi, Madi’s roommate Eleanor (who was also Max’s girlfriend), Max, Anne, (Max’s other girlfriend who usually brought her other partner Jack along as well.), and Charles who was also dating Eleanor occasionally at least.

It hadn’t started out as a hard and fast rule, that you _had_ to be dating someone in the group to come along, but sometime after Eleanor had pointed out how that was the case, Flint hadn’t minded, which was why when Madi had asked months ago, if she could bring her boyfriend, Flint had said yes.

He had even looked forward to meeting Silver in the beginning, for he had certainly made Madi happy and Flint _liked_ seeing Madi happy. He liked Madi. She was fun to talk with, he liked her laugh and he enjoyed their conversations over coffee when she was waiting for Miranda to get home from the office.

But then Silver had repeatedly not shown. He had an appointment, he was working late. He was sick, tired, dog-walking. That was the one that really got to Flint. Dog-walking? Who the fuck used dog-walking as an excuse to get out of something?

“He probably doesn’t even read.” He complained once to Miranda after yet another poor excuse, relayed by Madi.

Miranda had simply smiled. “What do you care if he does or doesn’t?”

“Madi should be with someone who’s worthy of her.” _Someone who reads,_ Flint thought, and didn't care if he was being snobbish or not.

“That’s why she’s dating me.” Miranda reminded him with a laugh. “She’s dating him because she likes him. You don’t have to like him. You’re not dating him.”

It was true. Flint didn’t have to like his partner’s partners. But he’d found it was far more enjoyable over time if he did, and usually he did.

Silver had straightened up. The way someone did when they saw someone attractive and Flint made a private wager with himself as to who it was, and he was right.

“Hello, darling.” Thomas leaned over and kissed his mouth before pulling the chair out from the table. Flint couldn’t help smiling up at him as Silver eyed them.

“Sorry, I’m late.” Thomas flashed an apologetic smile. “Has Miranda texted?”

“No.”

“Hmmm.” Thomas took out his phone. “Are you sure?”

Flint reached for his own phone with a sigh.

“You must be John.” Thomas turned his smile over to Silver as he held out his hand and Silver reached across the table and took it. “I’m Thomas.”

 *  *  *

Originally Flint had had the group meet once a month because he assumed no one had enough time to meet more than that and quite snobbishly that no one else read as much as he did.

“You’re all so slow.” Anne had complained after the third discussion. “Can’t you read any fucking faster?”

It turned out most of them could, and were willing to meet twice a month, except Miranda who occasionally couldn’t make it due to work.

So far it had worked out. There was no need to mention that after that fourth meeting Flint had received an email from Anne that simply said ‘What else are you reading?’

Anne had a job as an overnight security guard so she had plenty of time to read. Flint had responded with what he was reading apart from book group (Seveneves by Neal Stephenson) and she had told him the book she was currently engrossed in (Tender Morsels by Margo Lanagan) and it wasn’t _official_  exactly that they had a secret book group on the side. They just got coffee once a week and talked in-between emails about books.

Madi had joined them after she overheard Flint’s comment to Anne about the new Ann Leckie.

She’d sidled up to them and murmured, “When do you meet?”

Anne had given her a quick once-over and then muttered “New Providence Coffee, 11 am, Tuesday” back to her, and that had been that.

 *  *  *

And now here was Silver joining them at long last.

Flint studied him across the table. He hadn’t truly thought much of the throwaway comments Madi had given about John.

“He’s got a sly sense of humor.”

“I like the way he dances.”

“His curls are just the right length.”

That last comment had been to Miranda and she had murmured appreciatively and Flint had had a sudden vivid memory of her fingers locked in his hair the previous night. Now he looked at Silver’s dark curls, tangling around his face and he saw exactly what Madi had meant. His jeans felt a little too tight and he shifted slightly under the table.

“Madi’s talked a lot about you.” Silver said in response to Thomas and Thomas merely laughed.

“I’m sure.”

The two of them gotten into several heated debates over the course of Miranda and Madi’s relationship. Flint had enjoyed these debates at the time, but now he felt a slight pang of jealousy all the same. What had Madi said of him to Silver? Surely she’d said something?

“Entirely complimentary, I assure you.” Silver answered Thomas’s grin with one of his own.

“I’m sure.” Thomas chuckled again.

Flint looked from one to the other, frowning. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

“Where the fuck is everyone?” Anne dropped into the seat next to Silver with a thud. “Who the fuck are you?”

“John Silver.” He held out his hand.

“Madi’s, right?” She shook his hand.

Silver shrugged lightly. “In so much as anyone is anyone’s.”

“Now that’s interesting.” Thomas leaned forward, resting his chin on his folded hands. “So you don’t feel that you and she belong to each other?”

“Can people belong to each other?” Silver asked.

Flint shifted. “Of course.” And then wished he hadn’t because Silver’s eyes turned to look at him. His eyes really were the most startling shade of blue. They were somehow more changing than Thomas’s, who possessed a pair of calm sky blue eyes that always reminded James of standing on a hill in a park and watching kites against a spring sky. No, Silver’s eyes were simply vivid and arresting and distracting.

“Oh?” Silver waited.

“I think some people belong to each other.” Flint clarified.

“But not everyone.” Silver pointed out.

Flint frowned. “No, not exactly.”

“Soulmates.” Anne scoffed at the notion.

Silver glanced at her. “What about you?”

“I don’t think it’s a matter of belonging exactly. It’s more, you fit with someone, or you don’t.”  At that she turned and looked over just as Max approached the table.

“Sorry to be late.” Max leaned in to kiss Anne. She nodded at James and Thomas and at Silver. “You finally made it, I see.”

Silver grinned. “Hello to you too.”

“I see I am not the only one to be late.”

Thomas glanced at his phone and frowned. “Miranda’s might be delayed even longer. If we’re not going to get started, maybe we should postpone.”

“We postponed once already.” Flint protested. This was the only social event of the week he actually looked forward to. He didn't want to postpone again.

He shot an exasperated look at Silver, who carried no book and certainly didn’t look as though he had ever read _The Odyssey_. “Of course that might give some time to finish the book.” _If they come next time._

“I’ve read it.” Silver said unperturbed.

“Oh?” Now that was surprising.

“Not recently.” Silver amended. “But in high school.”

Max snorted. “So that for you was a few years ago.”

“I’ll consider that a compliment.” Silver smiled at her.

“You might want to revisit the text then.” Flint told him. “Remind yourself of a few things, characters, plot points.”

“I remember it.” was all Silver said.

“Yes, but it’s rather a lengthy work, and to contribute to the discussion…” He knew he was being a dick but Flint didn’t care. He wanted Silver to admit that he wasn’t interested in coming again and just go away.

Silver simply smiled and then leaned forward and said,

 _‘These nights are endless, and a man can sleep through them,_  
_or he can enjoy listening to stories, and you have no need_  
_to go to bed before it is time. Too much sleep is only_  
_a bore. And of the others, any one whose heart and spirit_  
_urge him can go outside and sleep, and then, when the dawn shows,_  
_breakfast first, then go out to tend the swine of our master._  
_But we two, sitting here in the shelter, eating and drinking,_  
_shall entertain each other remembering and retelling_  
_our sad sorrows. For afterwards a man who has suffered_  
_much and wandered much has pleasure out of his sorrows.'_

They all looked at him startled and he shrugged again. “I have an extremely good memory.”

“Ah,” Thomas said. “Well then.”

Flint ignored his tone. “All right.”

“Jack’s not coming either.” Anne informed the group, looking up from her phone.

Max sighed as well. “Eleanor and Charles are…detained.”

Anne rolled her eyes. “Fucking.”

“Very possibly.” Max agreed.

Flint’s phone buzzed then and he reached for it. He frowned at the message. ”Miranda has been kept at the office.” He sighed. “I suppose we should postpone then, after all. Again.”

Silver looked at his own phone then as a text appeared. “Madi too.” He looked back at the group. “Well, then, would anyone care to get a drink instead?”

“Actually, yeah.” Anne nodded.

“One.” Max said. “Before I have to get to bed. Early morning tomorrow.”

Thomas glanced at Flint, hopefully.

“Can’t.” Flint said brusquely. A drink, involving social chit-chat, was not what he wanted to do instead of holding a discussion over a thoroughly engaging literary work. He scooped up the paperback and put it in his bag with a thud. He offered no excuse as to why he couldn’t make it, and didn’t care to.

“That’s a pity.” Silver stood as well. “Perhaps next time.”

“Perhaps.” Thomas smiled. “It was nice to meet you, John.”

“You as well.” Silver smiled at him, before his eyes moved to Flint’s, a question resting there.

Flint briefly nodded. “We’ll reschedule.” He told the others, who nodded as well.

As he walked out with Thomas, Flint had a distinct feeling that Silver was watching them, but he didn’t look back to find out.

“We could have stayed for a drink.” Thomas pointed out as they walked through the autumn dark.

“We didn’t schedule tonight to get drinks.” Flint said irritably. “We were supposed to be having a book discussion.” Why was he the only one who cared?

“One drink wouldn’t have hurt.” Was all Thomas said.

Flint sighed.

It was the principle of the thing. If it turned into an ordinary social hour, what was the point? It was hard enough getting them all there anyway. It was a rule that there had to be at least a majority of the group to hold the discussion. They could have still had it if Silver hadn’t suggest that stupid drink.

*  *  *

Out of contrariness Flint fixed himself a drink once at home, a stiff whiskey and soda. Their home. His and Thomas’s and Miranda’s, of course. People who belonged to each other. That opinion of Silver’s certainly didn’t bode well for Madi and Silver’s relationship.

 He wandered upstairs to find Thomas singing in the shower.

Flint sat on the bed and thought of Silver quoting Homer.  ' _These nights are endless, and a man can sleep through them,_ _or he can enjoy listening to stories.'_ What did it matter if those words spoken in that quiet, intensely yearning voice had stirred him to feel something? They’d hold the discussion next week. Silver wouldn’t be able to make it.  Some new excuse or other. Flint would bet on it.

He leaned back on the bed and closed his eyes.

“What does Madi see in him?” He murmured.

“Did we meet the same person?” Thomas chuckled. “He seemed very nice.”

Flint cracked an eyelid to see him standing there in the doorway, drying his hair with a towel. He could have thought longer on what Thomas said, but there were far more pleasanter things to do instead. He raised a hand in invitation.

Thomas lowered his towel and went to him.

 *  *  *

The discussion was rescheduled for the following week and Flint thought no more about Silver’s unexpected appearance. Until he met with Anne and Madi for their weekly coffee.

“So how did it go?” Madi asked immediately as they sat down. “Sorry we couldn’t make it. Work was hell.”

Anne shrugged. “Seemed okay.”

“What?” Flint looked up from his coffee.

“Meeting John.” Madi looked at him expectantly and Flint hesitated.

“He didn’t seem very interested in the discussion.” He said at last. That was all he could say for now.

“I told him you took these discussions seriously.” Madi sighed. “It’s not a mistake to have him there, but if you truly don’t want me to bring him again…”

It would have been easy to say yes, but that would be unfair. Everyone else’s partners were there. It would be ridiculous to not have John just because Flint didn’t like him. “Of course not.” He said. “It’s fine.”

Madi gave him a searching look but left it at that.

 *  *  *

The next week Flint was, as usual, the first person at the library. He put the tables in place, set his book down along with the list of suggestions for their next read. Everyone contributed to the discussion list, unless they didn’t want to.  It gave them a more varied reading selection and that way the decision didn’t rest with just one person.

 Over the course of book group meeting they had read so far:

Sharpe’s Rifle (Flint’s suggestion)

Horatio Hornblower (Also Flint’s)

Jane Eyre/The Wide Sargasso Sea (Miranda & Madi’s joint suggestion)

Silence of the Lambs – Anne’s

Thank You, Jeeves – Jack’s contribution

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo - (Flint & Miranda & Madi's joint suggestion)

Good Omens – Jack again.

Tenant of Wildfell Hall - Miranda

The Sallee Rovers - Thomas

Patience & Sarah - Anne's 

A Room of One’s Own - Eleanor's 

The Price of Salt – Miranda

The Song of Achilles - Thomas

Silver Sparrow - Madi

Rebecca - Max

Tipping the Velvet –  Anne

Pages for Her – Miranda

Maurice – Thomas

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall - Miranda

Fried Green Tomatoes – (Anne & Max's joint suggestion)

Daughter of the Empire – (Flint & Madi's joint suggestion)

The Night Manager - Flint

 and so forth and so on. Flint kept track of everything they read and the general consensus after the group had discussed it.

 *  *  *

Again Silver was the first person there after Flint. He raised an eyebrow at Flint’s expression at his arrival.

“Didn’t expect to see me again?”

“Not so much, no.”

Silver shrugged and already Flint decided he disliked the motion on the man. It came too easily, the little gesture of removing himself from the responsibility of a situation. “I have some free time in my schedule at the moment and Madi seemed to enjoy it.” He spread his hands a little, smiling at Flint winningly. “So here I am.”

 _Here you are indeed_ , Flint thought. _Why?_

“What is it you do again?” He inquired, trying to remember if Madi had mentioned it or not.

“IT department.”

“Oh.” Flint tried not to let anything be implied in that one word response, but he couldn’t help thinking _‘was that all_?’  What was so special about that that Silver couldn’t have made room in his schedule for a book discussion before now? It was entirely different when Miranda couldn’t make it. As a human rights lawyer, her daily work often ran over into her personal time. Thomas and he were used to it. The same with Madi, who worked at the same firm as a civil defender. That was understandable.

This was just ridiculous. Again he couldn’t wondering what Madi saw in the man.

Silver sat back in his chair and just looked at him steadily.

Flint reached for his notes and started going through them so he could avoid looking at Silver anymore. The unbearable blue, intoxication of those eyes unnerved him.

“I’m sure if Madi will understand if you don’t want to stay.” Flint said after five minutes had passed and neither of them had spoken and Silver still hadn’t left.

Silver gave him a curious look. “I’m sure she would, but as it so happens, I have plenty of time now to wait, and to discuss books.”

“Right.” Flint said, irritably. He turned to his notes, ignoring the man.

“Is everyone usually late?” Silver asked after another five minutes had passed.

“Not usually.” Flint said and then, “About half are punctual, and the others drift in.”

Silver grinned and the grin sparked something warm and unignorable in Flint though he did his best.

“Let me guess, Thomas, Madi and Max are the most punctual, am I right?”

“You’re not entirely wrong.” Flint said, surprised. “Miranda tries to be punctual, except when she completely can’t come.”

“Her job seems to take up a lot of time.” Silver observed.

Flint shrugged. ”We’re used to it.”

“How long have you been together?”

At that Flint paused. “Which, me and Miranda, or me and Thomas, or Thomas, and Miranda and me?”

Silver’s smile widened at the informality of Flint’s grammar and response.“All of that, all of you.”

“Why?” Flint couldn’t help asking. Why was Silver even interested?

“Curious.” Silver shrugged. “We could start the discussion instead, but that wouldn’t leave much for the others to do when they get here, now would it?”

“Seven years.” Flint said shortly. He wasn’t going to discuss _The Odyssey_ alone with Silver.

“All three of you.” Silver looked genuinely interested so Flint gave in.

“There were several months at the beginning where it was just Miranda and I, and then a brief overlap, where I tried dating them separately. And then our current relationship began.”

“How’d that go?” Silver asked, curious still. “At the beginning?”

“It was…difficult.” Flint acknowledged, to his surprise “Not bad, just different. We’re better all together.” It was a unique relationship. He was well aware of that and very grateful for the acknowledgement of it.

“It’s really something.” Silver murmured. “I admire that.”

Flint didn’t ask how long he and Madi had been together. He already knew. A little under a year and a half. He remembered the day Madi had come over and said that she had met someone new and Miranda’s eyes had lit up. “Oh, tell me all about them.”

“Any other partners?” Flint asked when Silver was still just sitting there, clearly lost in thought.

“No, not at the moment.”

“Oh?”

Silver cocked his head. “Is that strange to you? Only dating one person after being with two for so long?”

“No.” Flint shook his head. “I’m just lucky, that’s all.”

“Lucky?”

“To be with two partners who fit together.” Flint had a feeling something was getting lost in translation, and he remembered again that Silver didn’t think people belonged to each other. “But then I’m not…”

“Not what?”

“Straight.” Flint said.

A small smile lurked at the corner of Silver’s mouth. An unbearably charming smile that Flint found hard to look away from.

“Neither am I.”

Flint blinked. It had been stupid to assume. He realized that now. Yet all the same. He _had_ assumed that Madi’s boyfriend was straight. He’d never heard anything to the contrary. Now he realized how idiotic the assumption had been.

Silver was clearly waiting for a response so finally Flint managed a brusque, “I see.” He looked down at his notes, hoping the man would leave it there and move on to another topic.

“Any objection to that?”

At that comment Flint’s head jerked up. ”Of course not.” When Silver didn’t say anything he added. “It would be hypocritical, not to mention absurd, if I objected to that.”

“Mm, it is absurd, is it not, how often humans accept things in themselves that they object to in other people.” Silver remarked in an agreeable tone.

“I have no objection to you being bisexual .” Flint said, somewhat testily, though he did, for some unfathomable reason, feel slightly irked by not having known it before.

When Silver didn't respond, he asked. “Is that the correct term?”

“Bi, or pan.” Silver said easily. “I tend to go back and forth between the terms.”

Flint snorted. _You would_.  

Silver tilted his head and looked at him. “Would you care to elaborate on that?” as though he could read Flint’s thoughts.

Flint shrugged. “Fluidity and terminology, always changing.” 

Thankfully at that point Madi arrived, and Flint was relieved to see Miranda close behind her.

“They let us out early tonight.” Miranda explained. “Hello, John.”

“Miranda.” He nodded to her while leaning over to kiss Madi. “Hi babe.”

Madi leaned fully into the kiss, Flint couldn’t help noticing.

“Hi. How are you two getting along?”

“Ready to discuss some books.” Silver said brightly and abruptly Flint wanted to punch him in his fucking teeth. He knew when he was being mocked, fucking little shit. At least they could actually hold the discussion that night. No thanks to Silver.

Unfortunately it was a meager sort of one. Anne showed up and Jack appeared a few minutes later, which meant they had enough members attending to discuss. But Eleanor was “busy” and no one expected Charles to appear without her, though Jack did seem mildly disappointed and Max texted to say she was held up and Thomas…

Even before he checked his phone, Flint had a feeling. He read the text ( _Migraine, sorry my love_.) and sighed under his breath. “We might as well start…” Now the discussion was rather disappointing and top of, he felt bad about Thomas.

Miranda pressed her hand to his before turning to the others. “Right, what did you lot of think of Odysseus then?”

“Think he could have gone home a lot quicker if he’d wanted to.” Anne said dismissively. “It was much more interesting knowing what Penelope was doing in that time. Though I’d have handled that situation differently too.”

“I can see that.” Miranda grinned at her. “I do like the juxtaposition though, between the home life and the journey at sea, both of them struggling. And then there's the matter of how little agency Penelope has to change her situation.” She looked at Flint. “James?”

“Yes.” He agreed with all of that. “I do think Odysseus was trying to get home as fast as he could though.”

An snorted. “Coulda made a little more effort, and gotten a little less distracted by sirens then.”

“Oh come, come. We’ve all been distracted by sirens.” Jack said sotto voce.

Anne glanced at him. “Is that what we’re calling it these days?”

Flint did his best to throw himself into the discussion but he couldn’t help being sidetracked by Silver, or rather his lack of participation. Flint hadn’t really expected anything exactly, and yet he _had_ expected arguments, counter opinions, just for the hell of it, especially since Silver had claimed he had read the book in his youth. However for the most part Silver remained silent during the discussion. He chimed in once or twice, but it was mostly just in agreement to other’s opinions. Frankly, it was disappointing. Flint had expected, well, _more._

The discussion ended early again with Miranda needing an early morning and Anne having picked up an extra shift.

“Nothing to say, Mr. Silver?” Flint couldn’t resist at the end.

Silver merely smiled. “Just observing.”

Flint made a faintly rude noise in his throat.

“What’s wrong with observing?” Miranda asked as they walked out together. “You usually prefer it when people get a sense of things before sticking their oar in.”

“Nice.” Flint squeezed her hand.

“Thought you’d liked that.” Miranda laughed. “Never mind then, let’s go home and see our husband.”

She always did that, referred to Thomas as theirs. Their husband. Flint appreciated it, though most people did not truly understand. Yes, Miranda and Thomas were married legally, but three years into the relationship they had held another ceremony, one where the three of them exchanged vows and rings. And that was that. He rubbed his ring absentmindedly as they walked up the path to the house together. People did belong to each other.

 *  *  *

“Is anyone allowed to suggest a book?” Silver asked at the end of the next meeting.

“We vote on it.”

“May I?” Silver glanced around the table.

Anne shrugged, Miranda nodded and Flint managed not to sigh. “All right.”

“The Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E Frankweiler.”

“That’s…” Flint had heard of it. “That’s a children’s book, isn’t it?”

“Are there rules against children’s books?”

“Not precisely.”

“I always meant to read that and never got around to it.” Miranda interjected. “I’d love to.”

“Yeh, I’m in.” Anne nodded.

“Fine.” Flint muttered. “All in favor?”

There was a choruse of "ayes."

 *  *  *

The book _was_ good. Flint had to admit that and he could see why Silver had recommended it. The entire group enjoyed it. Flint, who had been holding the book group for nearly two years now, had never gotten everyone to enjoy the same book. Not once. He was bitterly jealous.

“Darling, it’s all right.” Thomas turned to consider him. “If anything, this should be encouraging. John’s instincts are good. He’s a good addition to the group.”

“I don’t want him to be a good addition to the group.” Flint said moodily, aware that now he just sounded bitter, which admittedly he was.

“Oh?”

Flint sighed. “He’s just...of course he found a book that everyone enjoyed. He couldn’t have suggested James Patterson or Nicholas Sparks.”

“You wouldn’t have agreed to either of those.” Thomas laughed at the mere idea.

“I know, but.”

“It rather seems as though you wanted his suggestion to be unreadable.”

Flint shrugged. “It should have been.” It irritated him no end that it wasn’t.

 *  *  *

The next time Flint just stopped at the sight before him. Silver was not only there ahead of him; he had prepared. He had already rearranged the tables exactly how Flint liked them and was currently sitting there doodling in a small notebook, eyes on the page in front of him.

“Did you get permission?” Flint asked gruffly, dropping his bag on the table. Not loudly enough to distract other patrons, they were in a library after all, but loud enough to make Silver jump.

Silver stopped writing at once and closed the notebook. “Uh, permission?”

“To move the tables.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.”

“Really.”

Silver stared up at him, his brow wrinkled faintly. “You think I’m lying to you?”

“Not sure.” Flint said.

“Why would I lie to you about that?”

“I don’t know.” Flint shrugged. “I don’t know you.”

Silver’s brow cleared. “Is that what this is about? Because I try to get you to join us for a drink afterwards every time and every time you refuse.”

“That’s no way to get to know people.” Flint sneered.

At the same time, he couldn’t help noticing that Silver had said _you_ with particular intensity. Had those invitations really been solely meant for Flint’s benefit and not the whole group?

“Oh, then how would you suggest?” Silver rested his folded arms on the table, gazing up at him.

“I…prefer to get to know people slowly, over time. Perhaps coffee or a walk.” Flint drifted off.

“Ah, right.” Silver said. “Let’s get coffee.”

Flint stared at him. “Are you…” No, he could be wrong about this. He had to be. There was no way Silver was asking him out on a date. He couldn’t be. He just _couldn’t_ be. Could he?

“What?” Silver waited.

No, Silver was just trying to get to know Madi’s other partner’s partner, Flint decided. Probably she had asked him to. That was it. They could get coffee and when that was revealed to be a terrible idea as it no doubt would be, with nothing to talk about, they could never do it again. The end.

“All right.”

“Really?” Silver looked slightly surprised at his acceptance of the invitation. “When?”

Flint considered his schedule. He couldn’t do tomorrow. Tomorrow was secret book group with Anne and Madi. Friday he had an event. He and Miranda had a concert to attend on Saturday night and Sunday, the three of them were going to an art fair. Monday was no day for a date.

“Next Tuesday morning?” He said.”11 am if that works?” If it didn’t, that was that.

“That’s fine.” Silver said readily enough.

“Sure you don’t need to check your schedule?” Flint couldn’t resist.

“No.” Silver said cheerfully.

The others started arriving then. Jack, Anne, and Max in a cluster, all talking in animated whispers. Eleanor arrived with paint still on her fingers and her hair up in a loose bun. Flint already knew she probably hadn’t read the book, but he was just glad to see her.

Miranda and Thomas arrived together for once and Flint couldn’t help watching them as they approached the table, hand in hand, smiling at each other.

He looked over and caught sight of Silver watching him. Silver glanced away, but not before Flint caught the faint reddening of his cheeks.

_Interesting._

 *  *  *

The discussion went smoothly, largely dominated by Eleanor and Anne’s debate over whether or not the main character had been justified in killing a man (they agreed she was; they just differed on methods and how she had disposed of the body.)

“This isn’t worrying at all.” Jack murmured in Max’s ear.

Flint couldn’t help watching Silver throughout the discussion. He seemed perfectly at ease, didn’t say more or less than he usually did. But once or twice their eyes met across the table and Flint couldn’t help the heat that shot through him each time.

For once afterwards, Silver didn’t suggest a drink. He didn’t have to. Jack did, and the majority of the group started departing for their local bar.

“Shall we?” Miranda nodded.

Thomas looked at Flint who shrugged. “All right.”

Thomas gave him a pleased, but surprised look as they followed the others. “What changed your mind?”

“He asked me to go for coffee.” Flint shrugged. “I might as well be civil and have a drink.”

Thomas squeezed his hand. “Darling.”

 *  *  *

The bar was soft and smoky, the music playing low. Flint had a drink and watched as the group continued the discussion, only it dissolved simply into how they would all hide a dead body.

“This is a normal topic of conversation.” Max reassured Flint when he caught her eye.

“Mm, good to know.”

She laughed, stirring her martini with her olive. “It does sound rather ominous if you just overheard it.”

“Especially Eleanor’s enthusiasm with how easy it would be.”

Max cast an amused look at her fair-haired girlfriend. “She does have a flair for violence.”

“Your girlfriends tend towards that.” Flint grinned at her.

Max acknowledged that truth with a tilt of her head. “You have a type as well, it would seem.”

“Oh?”

“Intense, charismatic, lively sense of humor.”

Flint nodded in agreement, and then he followed her gaze to where it rested on Silver. Flint stiffened slightly, looking quickly at Max who was looking at him reflectively.

“Do you disagree?” Max stirred her drink some more.

“No.” Flint was forced to admit. “But it depends on the person, rather than a type I would say.”

Max merely smiled and took another sip of her martini.

 *  *  * 

“Are Madi and Silver…happy together?” Flint asked Miranda later, unable to stop thinking about it.

Miranda glanced at him in the mirror as she brushed her hair. “What brought this on?”

“He asked me to go for coffee.”

Miranda’s eyebrows arched and she laid the brush down on the bureau to turn and face him. “You have a _date_ with John?”

“It’s not a date.” Flint protested immediately. But was it?

 *  *  *

On Monday morning he met Silver who was somehow there before him, and they ordered coffee and sat at a corner table and Flint couldn’t _not_ ask any longer.

“Is this meant to be a date?”

Silver looked nonplussed for a moment and then. “Do you want it to be a date?”

Flint frowned. “That’s not how it works. It’s either a date or it isn’t.”

“I’d probably have told Madi if I were going on a date with you.” Silver said wryly.

“Hmm, all right.” Flint said. “So it’s not a date.” For the life of him, he couldn’t explain why he felt let down.

“It’s a getting to know you coffee.” Silver said quietly.

“Right.” Flint took a sip of coffee.

“Besides, we should probably talk about it first, shouldn’t we?” Silver looked a trifle unsure. “I mean, what it would mean, if we were to go on a date together.”

That was of course how it should go and yet Flint was still surprised by his suggestion. It implied that there would be a date.

“If we were to go on a date.” And he stressed the _if_ pointedly. “Obviously.”

“Right.” Silver said. He took a sip. “So what do you think?”

“Are you asking me out?” Flint said bluntly.

“Would you say yes if I were?” Silver countered.

Flint just gazed at him for a long long moment. He hadn’t really though that through. And now here they were dancing around the idea of going on a date, or Silver daring to ask him on a date, like they were practicing swordplay together.

“But you haven’t told Madi you were asking me out.” Flint found himself saying.

“Because I was testing the waters.” Silver said irritably.

“Why?” Flint demanded.

Silver blinked. “Because, it’s the considerate thing to do, to talk to your partner before getting involved with a mutual acquaintance, especially a mutual partner’s partner. I’ve had bad experiences before and I don’t want to repeat them, thank you, I just-”

“No.” Flint broke through that. “ _Why_ the date?” _Why ask me out?_ He wanted to know. Why? Why would Silver do that? Or want to?

“Oh.” Silver’s face went pink.

Flint would have found it charming if he found that sort of thing charming.

“Um…shouldn’t that wait for the date?” Silver said at last, looking down at his coffee. He missed the look on Flint’s face by doing so.

Flint swallowed. “Okay.”

At that Silver’s gaze darted back up again. “What?”

“Talk to Madi, and then…okay.” An actual date would be a mistake. There was no way that it would go well. They’d go out and it’d be a disaster and Silver would stop coming to book group and Flint found he didn’t want that to happen. _Fuck._

“Okay.” Silver said, then, “Are you going to talk to Miranda?”

“She already thought this was a date.” Flint sighed. “Yes, I’ll talk to her.” He still wanted to know why, not convinced that Silver would provide a reasonable explanation.

“So what are you always scribbling?” Flint asked after a lengthy silence.

“What?”

“Your notebook. During group. You seem to be making notes, but you never refer to them.” By now Flint believed Silver’s memory. He could recall quotes and recite passages effortlessly. It was impressive to say the least. He had no need of notes.

“Oh.” Silver hesitated. “They’re not notes exactly.” He hesitated some more, clearly undecided about something.

“Oh?” Flint couldn’t figure out what he was worried about. "What then?"

“They’re.” Here Silver sighed running his hand through his hair which served to distract Flint for a good amount of time. “Well, they’re poems.”

“What?” Flint was still focused on the curls and the way they tangled around Silver’s fingers.

“Poems.” Silver repeated. “Anyway, should we order food?"

“Wait,” his words were finally registering in Flint’s brain. “You mean to say you’re writing _poetry_?”

Silver cleared his throat. “Yes.”

“ _You_ write poetry.” Flint stared at him in disbelief. Of all the things to happen today, this was no less surprising than the actual invitation for a date. Silver writing? Poetry of all things?

“Look,  we don’t have to talk about it.” Silver began. His face was red now. He seemed to be fucking blushing.

“For…”

“What?”

“What do you write it for?” Flint realized what a ridiculous question that was. Why did anyone write poetry? “What I mean is, do you write for an assignment? Are you taking a class or something?”

“Not exactly.”

“What then?”

“I just write poetry. That’s all.” Silver reached for his coffee. Flint glanced at his hands and the way he held his coffee. The way he was looking anywhere, but at Flint now. The way his schedule didn’t make any sense. How he said he’d worked in IT. It had seemed ridiculous.

“Hang on…are you an actual poet?”

“For fuck’s sake.” Silver hissed. “It’s just a thing I do, that’s all.”

“But you _are_ published.” Somehow Flint knew that was it.

“Yes.”

“Under what name?”

“I’m not telling you. “ Silver took a defiant sip of coffee.

“Why not?”

“Because you’ll go and read it.”

It was true: it was exactly what Flint had intended to do.

“Do you not want me to?”

“I’m not sure yet.” Silver studied him across the table. “Having someone read your words is a personal thing in many ways, especially poetry.”

“But it’s out there, for anyone to read if it’s published.’ Flint pointed out.

“You’re not just anyone.” Silver muttered, turning pink again.

Flint quickly reached for his own coffee to give him more time to think. “Madi knows, of course.”

“Naturally.”

“Miranda?”

“I’m not sure.” Silver looked thoughtful. “Very possibly.”

“And yet you won’t tell me?”

“Miranda might know I write, but she doesn’t know my pseudonym.” Silver murmured. “Madi has never revealed that.”

He sounded completely confident of that, which was a good thing. You should be confident in trusting your partners. But Flint still wanted to know.

He wanted to know Silver’s writing, to get a sense of him beyond the elusive side of him that kept slipping through Flint’s fingers. He wanted to _know_ Silver, god help him. But as he sat there, Flint couldn’t help seeing it from Silver’s point of view.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

Silver raised an eyebrow. “I know I don’t.”

“I mean, I understand.” Flint said quietly. For now, they would leave it there. If Silver felt comfortable telling him later, that was fine. If not, that was all right too. People were allowed to hold on to their secrets and pasts. Sometimes they needed to.

“Shall we?” He nodded to the door.

“Oh, right.” Silver got to his feet.

“I thought we could walk through the park before I have to get back to work.” Flint pretended he didn’t see the smile spreading over Silver’s face. “If that works for you.”

“Works for me.” Silver nodded.

They walked across the street into the park, and Flint wondered if this was how it would be to date Silver, to gain a scrap of information and still be left wondering, but somehow be drawn in even more. He couldn’t tell.

They walked together along the path, a companionable silence between them for once, from time to time glancing at each other.

When they reached the exit, Flint paused. “You should probably give me your number.” He said. “In case…”

“You can just ask for my number.” Silver pointed out.

“I am, in case of unforeseen circumstances.” Flint said tartly.

Silver just smiled. “Can I see your phone?”

Flint tapped in his password and passed it over. Silver put in his number and handed it back. Not under _John_ , Flint noticed, but under _Silver_. Which was how Flint thought of him privately, so he wasn’t surprised.

“All right then.”

“See you.” Was all Silver said.

 *  *  * 

As he walked back in the direction of work, Flint found himself whistling slightly. The promise of a date with Silver, no matter how ill-considered such a proposal seemed, had put a slight spring in his step. The realization slowed it at once and he spent the rest of the afternoon attempting to work and only slightly distracting himself. He would have to speak to Miranda tonight, and Thomas too, for that matter.

It had been a while since Flint had gone on an actual date with a new person. Obviously he had been quite happily involved with the Hamiltons for the past seven years; he was content. But Silver had been an unexpected addition to the book group and somehow to his life as well.

For once Thomas was home before him, stretched out on the sofa, reading. He looked up as Flint entered.

“Hello.”

“You’re home early.” Flint went to put away his bag and hang up his coat.

“Another migraine.” Was all Thomas said, all he needed to.

“How’s your head now?”

“Better.” Thomas assured him. “Think I’ll go up soon though. Miranda’s on her way home.”

“I can look after myself.” Flint joked and Thomas simply smiled.

“I know that, but you don’t have to.”

That was the point. Flint thought about it while making a salad to go with the fish.

He had known he was bisexual from a very early age, even though he didn’t have the terminology for it at the time. the poly part had been both simple and more confusing at first. Never before had something felt so right and therefore like someone was going to snatch it away from him and tell him it couldn’t exist, that he wasn’t allowed to have it.

He sat and listened to music after Thomas had gone up. Quietly of course, though he knew the sound wouldn’t carry. Silver hadn’t asked for his number, so he was leaving this in Flint’s hands, though technically he could simply get it from Madi. Either one was possibility, Flint reasoned. Somehow thought, he knew Silver was really leaving it in his hands.

He was still sitting there, lost in in thought when Miranda came home.

Miranda looked at him thoughtfully. “What is it?”

“You were right.” Flint said absently, his eyes on the flickering firelight.

“Was I? About?” Miranda came to sit on the sofa beside him.

“It was a date. Or a prelude to a date.” Flint corrected. “At least Silver wants it to be.”

“And you?” Miranda smoothed her hands over his, pressing her fingers into his gently, a gesture he always found reassuring. “What do you want, James?”

“I’m not sure.”  He admitted, which was the hardest part. He always had goals in mind, things to achieve. This uncertainty was new and he disliked it.

“You didn’t say no.” Miranda observed.

“No.” There was that too. He shifted slightly to see her face. “How would you feel if he and I were to…”

God, it seemed absurd. He was content, wasn’t he? He had two partners, loves of his life; he didn’t need someone new.

“I think it would be extremely interesting.” Miranda said in all seriousness. “And…perhaps, even a little good for you.”

“Good for me.” Flint echoed. “How so?”

“Because it’s good to get to know new people, and have different experiences. Darling, if you’re totally content, it’s all right, and you certainly don’t have to add another partner to the mix. But if you wanted to,” again the reassuring squeeze of her hand. “You have my full support. You know that.”

Another partner. He considered Silver in that context. 

“And Thomas?”

“What do you think?”

“I think in some ways it feels absurd to be looking  for something else, I’m _not_ , I wasn’t looking and then again…I keep remembering what Thomas told me when I first thought I couldn’t be with both of you the way I wanted. That there was nothing holding me back, but society’s archaic rules.”

Miranda smiled. “That does sound like Thomas.” She kissed him. “You’ll have to talk to him, James.”

“I know.” He needed to. He kissed her, softly, treasuring this time together. He loved all the varying intimacies of their relationship. One of the things that had made him hesitate with entering into a new relationship with both Miranda and Thomas back at the beginning was that he would lose moments like this. Private, good moments, with space for all three of them. Together and separate. But he had been wrong. Those moments had blossomed and flourishes, and he cherished them even more.

“It will be all right.” Miranda kissed his jaw. “It will.”

His thumb stroked along the line of her hip, up her lower back. Miranda exhaled and slid up onto his lap.

 *  *  *

For all that he was reassured at the time, Flint still found himself nervous at the thought of dating Silver, even for just a trial period. Still, the alternative, to not go out even once, resounded strongly within him, his very being rejecting it out of hand, and he couldn’t say why.

The next morning he glanced at Thomas as he made coffee. Miranda was still asleep. 

“I’ve had an offer of a date.”

“Oh?” Thomas raised his eyes. “Anyone I know?”

“Guess.” Flint said dryly.

Thomas’s eyes danced. “You don’t mean to say.”

“I do.”

“James, that’s delightful. We should have John and Madi over for dinner this weekend.”

“Let’s go on a date first and see how it goes.” Flint said. 

“All right, but afterwards, soon. Dinner.” Thomas sounded certain that not only would it happen, but it would be an enjoyable prospect. Something all four of them would enjoy.

“You seem to think this is a good idea.”  Flint observed.

“Of course? Why not?”

“I’m not sure I want to date anyone new.” Flint confessed. “I wasn’t looking for it. I’m not...” _Ready for it_ , was the phrase that came to him. How could you ever be ready for it?

“That’s when it happens.” Thomas said wryly. “Not when you’re looking for it, not when you’re pining and lonely. But there, when you least expect it, there it is.” He made it sound as though falling in love were just around the corner.

He smiled at Flint. “What are you worried about?”

“Aren’t you…I mean,” Flint paused. “I’m _content_ , Thomas.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being content, but don’t see it as an excuse to avoid something that that could be special.”

“How do you know that?”

Thomas shrugged. He reached out his hands and took Flint’s in his, holding them. “I just do.”

“You’re maddening.” Flint declared, but leaned in to kiss Thomas anyway.

 *  *  *

The thing was, Flint had an inkling that he already knew who Silver was. Or rather, that he knew what name he wrote poetry under. Something Silver had said had caused a memory to flicker, a phrase resurfacing in his memory.

Flint had read a lot of poetry throughout his life. As it so happened he loved poetry and he still sent poems to Miranda and Thomas, not every day perhaps, not these days, but every once in a while. A poem that reminded him of them. He subscribed to several poetry blogs and there were times that reading poetry in the morning was far more helpful than reading the news. Poetry made him feel hopeful about the state of humanity, or rather, how to survive it, instead of simply wanting to burn everything down.

He kept a side blog of poets he read on a regular basis and there was one there, that he particularly enjoyed.

Flint went back, scrolling through his poems and and there it was, one of the most recent poems by this particular poet that he had bookmarked.

 

"Sea Change"

The air is soft - spray cool on my skin

 slipping from the waves, taking form again

The night beckons, the sand calls

And tonight, only tonight, walking on the earth

Stepping through the door

Before I return to the ocean floor

Drifting down into the deep

once more

 

And the name at the bottom of the post, like all the others - one word _: silvertongue_

Flint smiled. If he were right, and he was certain that he was, Silver was extremely talented, and Flint had many of his poems saved. Hell, he had even sent Thomas ‘Touching You With My Own Hands’ and it had led to a very enjoyable night.

But now he hesitated. Silver hadn’t wanted him to know his poetry was published, or where it was, for that matter. On the other hand, Flint had already followed him before he knew who Silver was. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to keep following it. Especially since he hadn’t had any official confirmation of his identity yet. Only his own intuition to go by…

Somehow he had never read the bio Silver had up. He clicked on it.

_Silvertongue spends too much time on the internet, and enjoys reading in bed when he's not writing. He lives with his partner M and has two cats._

It wasn’t nearly enough, but it did satisfy something inside Flint. Seeing the word partner, in black and white, Silver’s own chosen term for their relationship eased some of the nervous tension inside him. Perhaps this date wouldn’t be such a disaster after all.

 *  *  *

Silver had again suggested the coffee shop to meet, and Flint had agreed. This time he chose a corner table near the window overlooking the park. He watched the morning joggers make their way along the winding path through the trees as he waited for Silver.

His phone buzzed and he looked at it to see a text from Thomas.

_Remember, have fun. : )_

Flint smiled at the message.

“Hi.”

Silver sounded a little unsure this time and Flint wanted to put him at ease. “Hi.”

Silver slid into the chair opposite and looked at him. “You look nice.”

Flint glanced down at himself automatically. He had chosen a gray shirt that seemed to go well with his hair.

 _Seemed to go well_ – he could hear Thomas chiding him in his head. _You know exactly what that gray shirt does to people. Don’t deny it._

Flint cleared his throat. “Thank you.” He gazed at Silver a moment before adding. “You look good too.”

It was an understatement. He couldn’t decide if Silver had taken more care this morning or if he always looked this attractive and Flint was only noticing now because he was letting himself notice now. Either way, Silver looked very appealing in a blue sweater and dark jeans. Adding in that Flint knew the way he wrote, well. It was difficult not to admit just how attractive he found Silver.

Silver smiled at him. “Shall we get coffee?”

“Yeah.”

They ordered and then again they were sitting there and the silence crept in again. Flint sipped his coffee and tried to think of something anything to talk to Silver about. But the only thing he could think of was Silver’s writing and he didn’t want to talk about that so Flint wouldn’t. It didn’t make things exactly easy.

“Um.” Silver said and then just stared down at his coffee. “I really thought this would be easier.”

“Why the fuck would you think that?” Flint said bluntly, though not unkindly.

Silver met his gaze and the bewildered amusement there made Flint smile. They both just started laughing in spite of everything, or perhaps because of it. Flint found himself warming towards the man.

“I don’t know.” Silver admitted. He reached for the creamer and started adding it absently to his mug. “There’s just something about you. I can’t really explain it.” He shrugged a little and this time Flint knew his irritation at the gesture was half oreviously unacknowledged attraction. It didn't help now that it was acknowledged. 

 “So why didn’t you come to book group sooner?” Flint was at a loss.

Silver took a sip of coffee. “Because I don’t think people have to do everything with their partners. It’s good to have separate interests. And Madi likes it so much.” He smiled as he said her name and Flint warmed to him even more. “I like it when she comes home and sits on the foot of the bed, tells me what you all read and what you said about it. It was a nice way to experience it.” He took another sip. “But over time I wanted to meet you, all of you, but especially you.”

“Not Thomas?” Flint couldn’t resist.

Silver grinned. “Thomas is very attractive, I’m not going to pretend he isn’t. But from the moment Madi told me the story about you standing up to your head editor, refusing to drop the information about the queer author in your article you were editing…I just wanted to meet you.”

Flint blinked. “Madi told you about that?”

“She talks about you a lot.” Silver’s smile widened. “It would have been easy to be jealous, I suppose, but, perhaps this is weird, I wasn’t? It just made me happy that she had met you through Miranda.”

Flint shook his head. “I understand.”

“Good.” Silver took a sip of coffee. “Because I don’t do jealousy. I mean, I think it’s pointless.”

Flint felt amused. “So what do you do?”

“You mean other than write poetry and avoid joining my girlfriend’s book group because I have a crush on the man leading it?” Silver scratched the back of his neck self-consciously, his eyes still watching Flint’s.

Flint reached for his own mug of coffee. “I don’t really lead it per se.” Crush. What a silly inconsequential word and yet the way it sounded on Silver’s tongue made his thighs ache.

“But you started it.”

“Yes, I did.” He took a sip, making it clear he was still waiting for the rest of Silver’s response.

“I write, and I teach an online writing class and I...do walk dogs. That was real by the way, not just an excuse."

“It sounded like an excuse.” Flint muttered.

“I know.”

Flint shook his head. “I wasn’t really looking for this.”

“I know that too.” Silver said finally. “And if you don’t want to go out again, that’s all right.”

“Really?”

“I mean, I might not always make it to book group, but I’d still like to come, even if you and I don’t.” Silver shifted slightly in his seat. “You know.”

Flint watched him, the curls around his face, the blue of his eyes, that curve of his mouth. How soft would it be to touch? His own apprehension had faded as he sat there with Silver, shifting into undeniable interest. 

“What did Madi say when you told her?”

“She said ‘took you long enough.” Silver grinned. His left hand rested on the table near his mug and Flint reached out and took it, holding it gently within his own. He was following his instincts now, regaining his balance.

“What would you like to do next?”

“Um.” Silver glanced down at their hands. “Don’t you have to get back to work?”

“Not for a little while.” Flint stroked his thumb lightly along the back of Silver’s middle finger.

“There’s a bookstore next door.” Silver told him. “If you like browsing around bookstores.”

“I like.”

They paid for their coffees and walked next door. Flint was aware that it was misting slightly outside, that there was a man at the counter asking obnoxious questions about Shakespeare, that the floor of the store creaked under his boots as he followed Silver up one aisle and down another, but he wasn’t really paying attention to any of it. 

He watched Silver as they read titles aloud to each other, joked about the covers, drifting from history to science to fiction, to, quite naturally poetry.

Flint pulled down a collection of Sara Teasdale and flipped through the pages until he found the one he'd been thinking of since rereading Silver's poem. He cleared his throat and read it aloud, quietly.

 

_Spray_

I knew you thought of me all night,

I knew though you were far away;

I felt your love blow over me

As if a dark wind-riven sea

Drenched me with quivering spray.

 

There are so many ways to love

And each way has its own delight-

Then be content to come to me

Only as spray the beating sea

Drives inland through the night.

 

 

Silver sent him a sideways look, but didn’t say anything in response.

“Why did you suggest a children’s book?” Flint was still curious about that.

“I like children’s fiction. They don’t write down to you as a lot of adult books do.”

Flint reached above to study the spine of a book, and then he looked down, aware of how close he stood to Silver now, Silver’s body between his and the bookshelf. Silver who stood there watching him, with those blue blue eyes of his.

 “You asked me what I wanted to do next.”

“Mmm.” Flint murmured. He remembered. His fingers moved of their own accord, playing along the hem of Silver’s sweater.

“I really want to kiss you.” Silver breathed.

Flint leaned closer. “Well?”

Silver grinned up at him and leaned in.

There was another part of Flint that was aware they were standing there in the aisle in plain sight. Anyone could see them kissing like teenagers, their entire bodies hungry for it.

The other part of him knew nothing but Silver. The warmth of Silver’s lips upon his, the sheer shiver of pleasure that ran through his body at Silver’s tongue, the quick rush of desire in his fingers for more contact, more touch, more Silver.

Silver groaned into his mouth as he pressed into the bookcase, Flint leaning into him as the kiss lasted and broke apart and then met again. Flint had one hand inside Silver’s sweater and the other hand lowered to rest at the back of Silver’s neck, stroking lightly into his hair. Silver’s hands were on his ass, pulling him closer until Flint felt exactly what Silver wanted him to feel. He muffled his own groan in Silver’s mouth and finally drew apart with a gasp.

“If we get arrested for public indecency on our first date…”

“Surely someone we know would represent us.” Silver grinned. His hands left Flint’s butt reluctantly and Flint would have been lying if he said he didn't regret their absence.

Flint laughed. “I want…” his thumb brushed the base of Silver’s neck and Silver’s eyelids closed for a moment in response. “God, I want you.”  Had he truly said that aloud?

Silver’s eyes opened at that. “Well?” he echoed Flint.

Flint swallowed. He could cut this off here for now, send Silver on his way and go back to work and wait a decent number of hours to text and ask him out again.

Or he could do something else. Follow his instincts further, and see where they led.

“Come home with me?”

Silver stared at him, incredulousuly. “Do you mean that?”

“Yes.” Flint said.

Silver’s lips curved into a smile.

 *  *  *

They didn’t make it to the bedroom. Flint was grateful they made it inside the house at least. Silver landed on the sofa, Flint above him, finally drawing his sweater up to mouth his way across Silver’s chest.

“What happened to getting to know people slowly?” Silver panted.

“Shut up.” Flint kissed his stomach and paused before reaching for Silver’s zipper. Drawing Silver out gave him pause, only for a moment. Flint gazed at him, taking all of this in, before he lowered his head.

Silver exhaled slowly as Flint got his mouth on him, claiming him. Flint bobbed his head, taking Silver deeper, fingers gripping at his thighs. He had lost track of time, beyond this moment in this room here with Silver. Silver’s fingers tightened in his hair and Flint moaned around his cock, somehow managing to keep his eyes open. He could tell Silver was close and he wanted to watch him -  to bury this memory deep within his brain and keep it carefully. 

Silver came in a rush and Flint swallowed, still watching his face as he did.

And then Silver reached for him, drawing Flint up on the sofa with him, hands moving hungrily between Flint’s thighs, making Flint gasp until he came as well, as they kissed, spilling across Silver’s stomach.

Silver lay back, still panting. “Jesus.”

Flint rolled off him, chest heaving as he slid down to sit on the floor. He still couldn’t believe all of this had just happened. One minute they were drinking coffee, and the next, he knew what Silver tasted like. Not to mention he had just come on Silver’s stomach. That wasn't something he'd forget any time soon.

“Now what?” Silver whispered.

“Now…I should get back to work.” Flint said regretfully.

Silver started to laugh. “How can you work after that?”

Flint grinned and reached over to swipe a curl behind his ear. “Well, for one thing, you won’t be there to distract me.”

“Mm, “Silver acknowledged that. “But you’ll think of me.”

“That’s true.” Flint admitted. There was little chance of thinking of anything else, if he were honest. But he wanted to do his best. He managed to stand up and go get a washcloth to give to Silver who laughed and thanked him before cleaning himself off.

As Silver straightened his sweater, he swept both hands through his hair. “So it’s safe to say you’re not opposed to seeing each other again?”

“Safe to say.”

Silver nodded to himself. He patted his pockets, making sure he had his phone and then he looked around.

He leaned up to kiss Flint. “See you at book group.”

“See you.” Flint echoed. He saw Silver to the door and then he couldn’t help it. He went back to the poetry blog and reread several of his favorites. _I know it’s you. Why won’t you tell me?_

 *  *  *

That evening Flint sautéed garlic and onions and peppers as the chicken baked. The mist had turned to heavier rain and he hoped the others wouldn’t get caught in it.

He thought of Silver as he cooked and as he drank a glass of wine, and as he washed the dishes. How long would it take Silver to trust him? What if he never did? Flint didn’t want to consider that. But what if that was the case after all?

 *  *  * 

Miranda came in with raindrops misting her hair and shaking her coat off. “It’s wet out, but not too bad.”

“Mm, glad to hear it.” Flint kissed her and hung up her damp coat.

Miranda caught his hand. “Come and talk to me while I shower, and tell me about your date.”

Flint got his wineglass and obeyed.

As she undressed in the bathroom, Miranda grinned at him.

“What?”

“I take it the date went well.” She said, stepped into the shower.

Flint looked around and caught sight of the used washcloth on top of the hamper. “Ah.”

He told her how it had started at the coffeehouse and how they ended up here, but he didn’t tell her how Silver hadn’t told him his pseudonym.  

 *  *  *

He repeated the same telling to Thomas over dinner as the three of them ate together.

“So we can ask them to dinner now, correct?” Thomas asked.

“It’s fine with me.” Miranda said. “You might want to give James and John a little more time first, my dear.”

Thomas sighed. “I want to have a dinner party.”

“We could do that anyway.”

“I want to have an _intimate_ one.” 

"In good time."

Flint sat back, sipping his wine, and watching them, and newly content with his life. For now.

 *  *  *

Anne had one leg drawn up as she waited, reading a paperback copy of _Fingersmith_. She acknowledged Flint with a nod, finishing the page before she set the book aside.

“Coffee.” Madi murmured as she joined them. 

“Coffee.” Flint agreed.

Madi looked at him, her eyes bright and considering. “The date went well?”

“Yes.” Flint said, glancing at Anne who set her book aside as she sipped her black coffee. “He told you about it then." Of course he had. Silly question.

“Yes.” Madi said. “I’m glad.”

It was a simple statement but it meant a lot. Flint smiled at her.

 *  *  *

All the same, as the rest of the week passed, busily enough, Flint thought about asking Silver out again, but something had halted him from doing so. As delightful as their encounter had been, and all their respective partners seemed all right with it, he still hesitated.

Selfishly he knew it was partly because of Silver’s not telling him his writing name, but there was still something else beyond that. Something Flint couldn’t put into words yet.

Not until Silver asked him.

 *  *  *

“Hi.”

Flint looked up to see Silver leaning on the back of the chair across from him.

“Hello.” Flint paused. “I’m sorry I didn’t text.”

“I figured you would when you were ready.”

“I still should have texted.” Flint murmured.

Silver sat down and rested his arms on the table, gazing at him. “So why didn’t you?”

Flint hesitated. Could he really tell Silver what had stopped him? Would Silver understand? Could he if he didn't think people could belong to each other?

“Have you ever had something that you thought was too good to be true and that there was no way it could last if it was?” He gazed back at Silver, hoping he would understand. “I have never taken my relationship with them for granted, always aware that it’s something rare, something to be protected. And now to ask for more, to even want more, seems like greed. Daring the universe somehow to take it all away."

“I think, you’re allowed to be greedy.” Silver said. “Might as well live up to the saying.”

It made Flint smile.

“So you think it’s all right to be greedy?”

“In this instance, yes.” Silver said. “Or maybe I’m just greedy too.”

 *  *  *

The discussion started and Flint was grateful no one made any comments about him and Silver.

As they talked, Flint reached for his phone and tapped out a quick text.

_Will you go out with me tomorrow?_

He saw Silver take his phone and glanced at it, a slight smile twitching at the corner of his mouth as he responded.

_Yes_

Flint looked down as he smiled at his phone and put it back in his pocket.

 *  *  *

On their second date they went they went to a museum and ended up making out behind a statue of Roman lovers, wandering hands and needy kisses.

“Look, I enjoyed the art but, I really want you.” Silver whispered, groaning a little as Flint nipped at the mark he'd left on his neck.

“Are we starting a precedent?” Flint managed not to come in his pants at the feel of Silver’s hand on him.

“Is it bad if we are?”

“No.” Flint said. “Not if we like it.”

 *  *  *

On their third date Silver simply came over to the house and Flint pulled him inside by his collar and kissed him against the door until they were both hard. Then they proceeded to the bedroom where he laid Silver down upon the crimson duvet and kissed all the way down his thigh.

Flint’s hand slid up the leg of his trousers and then, paused at the feel of Silver's leg.

“It’s not a big deal.” Silver murmured. “I mean…keep going.”

“Okay.” Flint said, so he did.

 *  *  *

Later, Silver leaned back and looked at him. “Someday I’ll tell you how I lost it.”

“I’d like that.” Flint told him. The sound of that _someda_ y on Silver’s lips made him happy. Someday Silver would tell him this at least.

 *  *  *

On their fourth date, after Flint had made him come twice and Silver had made the most obscene noises, he passed Flint a small piece of paper, folded in half.

He already knew what it was before he looked at it. Still he unfolded it and read it. There was one word written on it _. Silvertongue._

“Really?” He asked. "Are you sure?"

Silver just shrugged at his questioning look. “You can read them. If you want.”

“Thank you.” Flint said in all sincerity. He paused, and then, no he had to tell him. “Actually, I have a confession to make.”

“Oh?” Silver reached for his shirt and started pulling it on.

“I’ve already read your poems.”

At that Silver’s fingers paused and then he finished. “Oh?” He said again but his tone was completely different now.

“I mean, I’d read them before we ever met.” Flint folded his hands together, trying to say this. “I subscribed to your blog over two years ago when one of the poems was featured on PoetDaily and ever since then, I've read it regularly.”

Silver just looked at him. “Did you realize straight away or…”

“It took me a little while.” Flint admitted.

“When though?”

“After the first coffee date, or not-date.” Flint corrected. It was only a little while after all, now that he thought about it.

Silver rubbed at his eyes. “Wow. That’s…I need a little…”

“But you were ready.” Flint protested. He held up the paper.

“Yeah, now. All those poems.” Silver blushed faintly. “Some of those…Anyway, I need some time.”

“All right.” Flint said. What he wanted to say was _please still come to book group_ , but he didn’t.

He went back and read some of his favorites, trying to see if there’s something that he was missing, something that Silver would be embarrassed about. He was a good writer. He had no need to be embarrassed.

 

_The Other Love You Never Met_

There are moments in the shadows

Where we drift and break apart and meet and

Whisper

To each other, and never catch the words until they’re frozen

These half notes suspended in the air

Never fully sung, an endless symphony of melancholy

Despair half a step away, unless you move closer

What would it take to pull you closer

Through the door?

 

 

Oh. _Oh._

Flint paused. And then went back further to another.

 

Desire, silk and sleek and sharp

Carved around me like a knife

Do you even know what it’s like to be cut by you?

When you look at me and barely see me?

 

Well.

 *  *  *

The next time he arrived early to book group and waited, resisting the urge to text Silver and ask if he were coming. Silver had to make up his own mind on this. Surely he knew it was all right. Surely he knew…that Flint also had feelings for him?

_Feelings._

The ridiculous inadequacy of the phrase made Flint want to choke on laughter. Yes, feelings were something he possessed for Silver.

But it was all right? They were already seeing each other. Silver had admitted he had a crush on Flint, though crush and writing love-starved poetry about him were two different things.

“What’s wrong with you?” Anne asked as she sat down.

“Nothing.” Flint said.

“You do seem rather perturbed.” Max agreed as she sat down next to her.

“I am not.”

“Probably Silver.”

“What?” Flint glared at Anne who just shrugged.

“Oh?” Max turned a sympathetic expression in Flint’s direction. “Is that not going well?”

“Look here, does everyone know?” He shouldn’t have been surprised and yet he was.

“I just think we all deserve a little space.” Eleanor said as she dropped into another seat, Vane close behind her. “How am I supposed to create anything with you fucking breathing down my neck all the time?”

“You like it.” Vane rasped.

Max rolled her eyes.

Eleanor shrugged off the hand that was trying to steal around her waist and looked around the group. “What’s everyone talking about?”

“Flint and Silver.”

“Oh yeah, how’s that going anyway?”

“For fuck’s sake.” Flint sat back in his chair.

Miranda and Madi came over just then and he hoped their arrival would help change the subject.

“Where are we all on _Tipping the Velvet_?” Miranda inquired.

“I’m in favor of it.” Anne said.

“Likewise.” Eleanor said.

“Mmm.” Max said. “But James has not finished telling us about his current condition.”

He bared his teeth at her and she simply smiled.

“Oh?” Miranda looked at him curiously.

“I’m not discussing my romantic life at book group.” Flint declared.

“So you have fucked then.” Anne said.

_“Anne.”_

“Just clarifying.” Anne shrugged.

“What I have missed?” Thomas chose just then to join the group, walking in with Jack.

“Trying to get details of Flint and Silver fucking.” Eleanor filled him in.

“Oh.” Thomas nodded. “Right.” He was clearly trying not to laugh.

“This is not an amusing topic, Thomas.”

“Are you sure about that?” Thomas squeezed his knee. “You don’t have to talk about it of course, but you are among friends.”

“For the last time,” Flint rose and towered over the table. “I’m not talking about Silver, or the fact that we’re seeing each other or fucking or falling in love. Is that understood?”

There was a heavy silence around the table and he thought he had made his point when he heard someone clear their throat behind him.

“Sorry I'm late." Silver said softly. 

“It’s fine.” Flint said hoarsely. “Have a seat.”

Silver did and then as everyone pretended to look at their books, or the table, or in Jack's case the wall, he said, "Sorry, did you say something about falling in love?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Flint said. “Outside _now._ ”

He stalked outside the library becaue he couldn't do this in front of the reference librarian either and Silver followed him.

For a moment they both just stood there and Flint knew he had to be the one who spoke first.

At last he sighed. “I said that because I was annoyed by all their comments and I didn’t…It doesn’t mean that we have to, well, label anything.” God, Flint hated that term. “We can just keep on how we were and see how things go. If that’s all right with you?”

“You’ve read my poems.” Silver said steadily. “You know…”

“I know.” Flint said. “I like your poems.” Like was not an adequate word for how Silver’s poetry made him feel.

Silver’s mouth twitched faintly. “Let’s just go from there then, shall we?”

“All right.” Flint said, and then, leaned down to kiss him. just once, a brush of his lips across Silver’s – a promise of all that was to come. Later. After book group.

*  *  * 

The morning after bookgroup, Flint got out of bed while Silver was still asleep and went to make coffee. He got out his laptop and scrolled through his blogs.

There was a new post by Silvertongue waiting.

Flint read it, listening to the sound of the coffeepot percolating.

 

The stories we pass down, the stories we share,

the stories we keep to ourselves and then whisper in a lover's ear

The stories we never tell another living soul

What’s true, what’s untrue, what’s hidden, what’s laid bare

Before you, before another,

These are the stories we have

to possess 

All of these are there in the world - free and fleeting, hidden and buried

All of these are true in some form, as long as they last, as long as they are passed

Along

Held in each other’s hands, and hearts

Here is a story

Of how

I met

Someone new

And found them on familiar ground

 -

We just met

But I already know you, 

like I know my own mind

too close for comfort

\- belonging

where I never belonged

before 

 

 

"Coffee?" Came a sleepy murmur from the doorway.

"When did you post this?" Flint looked at him and then kept looking because Silver stark naked with tousled curls and sleep in his eyes, was not something he'd tire of seeing anytime soon.

"Last night. In-between." Silver waved his hand. "Coffee?"

"Are you saying you belong with me?" Flint asked.

"Will you give me coffee?" Silver groaned.

Flint sighed and reached for a mug. As he poured Silver a cup and added milk, he heard, quietly from behind him, "Yes."

Flint smiled and handed Silver his coffee. 


End file.
